Chapter Eighteen
When he moved for the door, Franny followed, not trusting her voice. She didn’t know what to do with that entire conversation. It was so deep, so profound, and yet…
She hadn’t gotten through to him. Did that make her a failure?
She did everything she needed to do to secure her apartment, and hoped it was the last time she had to go through that rigmarole.
She climbed into his police cruiser. She didn’t dare look at him, because she wasn’t going to lose the battle with tears. She wasn’t going to look desperate. Not when she was right.
They hadn’t driven far when Royal’s phone rang through the car’s Bluetooth system. Since it was connected, she could see the caller ID pop up on the screen of the car. Zach Simmons. “Why is Mr. Simmons calling you?” Franny wondered aloud.
Royal didn’t say anything at first. When he spoke, it was very…detached. And she didn’t think it was all to do with their conversation at her apartment. “I’ll call him back.”
Which wasn’t an answer. It was an evasion.
But then her own phone chimed, a text from Audra in the family group chat about Copeland saying Albennie was saved and demanding to know why Franny hadn’t told them.
So Franny had to craft a quick, breezy text about her allergy pill knocking her out the night before and how she was on her way to the sheriff’s department to get an update now. Once she was satisfied and hit Send, she realized the car had come to a stop.
She looked up at the police station. Then over at Royal. He was already getting out of the car, so she followed suit. He didn’t offer anything as they walked up to the building. No words of support. No encouragements.
Because she’d had to open her big mouth and tell him he was brave and good. Well, she wasn’t going to feel bad about that. She refused.
When they stepped inside, Copeland was waiting there, which had a little pit of worry forming in her gut. He didn’t look happy or relieved. He had that detective stoicism going on.
“Is everything okay?”
Copeland looked from her to Royal. “Let’s go hear what the sheriff has to say and find out.”
THIS WAS THE last place Royal wanted to be right now. He needed to talk to Simmons about the information Zeke had given him, and what that meant for…everything, but he supposed Albennie being found would trump his own investigation.
Unless…
He didn’t let himself think about the unless. Not yet. He put that away like he put away the conversation with Franny. He stood stiff and still and listened to the sheriff.
“Ms. Ward has some minor injuries. While they took care of those in Idaho, she requested her own doctor to check her out on arrival, so no one local has had a chance to talk to her yet. The Feds will share their public reports with us, but they’re being closemouthed about the entirety of the case.”
“So you don’t know who did it?” Franny asked. She was the only one sitting. The sheriff had offered her his chair. So it was an odd tableau—sheriff, deputy, detective standing in front of her like she was the boss.
She was looking a little wide-eyed and concerned to be the boss. Beautiful though.
A very unhelpful thought.
“I don’t, but the FBI do. I suppose that’s going to have to be good enough.”
“With all due respect, sir, it isn’t.”
The sheriff sent him a sideways glance. Royal should have taken it as censure, but he couldn’t help himself.
“Until we have confirmation that the kidnapper Franny witnessed has been arrested, there is still a chance she’s in danger even if Ms. Ward isn’t.”
“I think that’s highly unlikely, Deputy Campbell.”
“I don’t,” Beckett said. “I think he’s spot-on. Look, we were all operating under the theory the kidnapper was hired muscle. Even if he doesn’t connect to Ms. Ward’s disappearance in a full-blown way, that means Franny being able to identify and implicate him in a crime is still a risk.”
The sheriff shifted uncomfortably. He looked from Beckett to Royal to Franny. He smiled at her. Thinly. “Ms. Perkins, would you mind waiting outside for a few moments?”
Franny’s gaze moved to his. For a moment that felt too much like that moment in her living room, their gazes just held. Like they could have full-on conversations without speaking.
But they couldn’t. So Royal gave her a little go-ahead nod. The sheriff would speak more freely if she wasn’t there, and he and Beckett could too.
Because this wasn’t over for Franny just yet. And no matter what she thought of him, no matter what she’d said this morning, he was going to be right there making sure she was safe. He wasn’t failing her, no matter how much it messed with his head.
“Maybe Albennie will tell us,” Franny offered as she got out of the seat. “What’s going on. Who the kidnapper was. Maybe we don’t have to wait for the FBI to.”
The sheriff smiled at her. “Maybe.” But then he waited for her to leave, and he closed the door behind her.
Royal stood feeling pulled in way too many directions. The conversation he’d had with Zeke last night about the identity of the woman weighed on him. Because it wasn’t something he could bring up to the sheriff. It was under the table stuff that could get him fired.
Just like kissing Franny.
He wanted to talk to Simmons about the woman’s identity—a former FBI agent was definitely a problem as Zeke had said. Instead he had to convince the sheriff that Franny wasn’t safe until they had absolutes. And that irritated the hell out of him.
“Sheriff, Franny’s own recount of the kidnapping was that Ms. Ward had a hood secured over her head.
It’s possible she never saw her attacker.
It’s possible Franny remains the only witness that can pin this on him, especially if he was hired muscle and not connected with the group the FBI may or may not have apprehended.
With the threats that have been leveled against her, that’s a problem. ”
“And a crime,” Beckett tacked on. “Harassment and threats are a crime. One that happened in our county and we have an obligation to solve.”
“That you can continue to investigate, Detective. But we can’t surveil her indefinitely,” the sheriff replied with a kind of calm detachment that grated against Royal’s nerves.
“And until there’s another threat on Ms. Perkins after Ms. Ward’s return, I don’t see how I can justify it.
If she still feels unsafe, she can hire her own security.
But our responsibility only goes so far. ”
“I think it should go at least as far as ascertaining who has been arrested for what.”
The sheriff stared him down, and Royal couldn’t help but have some concerns that I kissed the witness and have definitely gotten too deep was written all over his face.
“You know he’s right, Sheriff,” Beckett insisted, and Royal was glad for some backup here, even if it came from a personal attachment of Beckett’s own.
“At the very least, I’d like to request maintaining the Hope Town assignment,” Royal said. “Until we know everything for sure.”
The sheriff looked from him to Beckett. Then sighed. “If the kidnapper is still on the loose, and that’s confirmed by the FBI, I can give you a week to continue the Hope Town assignment, along with Mayfield on nights. But if it goes beyond that, I can’t afford it.”
The sheriff’s assistant poked her head in the door. “Sorry, gentlemen. Sheriff, that FBI agent is waiting for you in the conference room.”
The sheriff’s scowl deepened. “All right. I’m headed that way, Miranda. You two are dismissed,” he said, striding out of the room.
Royal didn’t follow right away. He needed to get a grip on himself before he dealt with Franny. In so many different ways.
“Maybe she should get private security,” Beckett muttered, still standing next to Royal.
Royal knew the irritation was with the sheriff, but he didn’t like the suggestion either way. “She trusts me.” She shouldn’t but she did. So he’d be what she needed him to be, even if he couldn’t change all those past parts of himself.
Beckett made a considering type of noise.
Royal sent him a sidelong glance. “What?” he demanded.
Beckett shrugged. “If you’ve got a personal stake in this, Campbell, it’d set my mind at ease. And my fiancée’s.”
Royal looked back at the door. “I don’t know what that means.”
“Yeah, you do.”
Maybe he did. But he wasn’t about to address it with Beckett. So he moved for the door, but he couldn’t quite help himself. “Nothing’s happening to Franny on my watch.”